


After-Action Reports

by erunamiryene



Series: Codex: Incorrigible Libertines [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Humor, Inappropriate Behavior, Smut, Snark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:19:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 11,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erunamiryene/pseuds/erunamiryene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lin never expected to meet someone like Pierce among the stuffed shirts in the Imperial Army, and certainly never could have foreseen that he'd become her most trusted friend and confidante.  They've been nigh inseparable since Taris, and can usually be found screwing with each other, screwing each other, drinking, fighting, or playing cards.  </p><p>When Vitiate took leave of his senses after Yavin 4, Lin ... semi-politely declined Darth Marr's demand that she become the Empire's Wrath, since she'd only become the Emperor's Wrath in the first place to kick Darth Baras' ass, and they struck off on their own, though they can't escape the events of Ziost and the attack on the Eternal Empire.  After she forms the Alliance, she chooses Commander Ayan Pykash as her executive officer, turning over the majority of the day-to-day operations to her in favor of running strike teams and recruiting missions.</p><p>Collected ficlets and prompt fills for Lin & Pierce.  Will only sort of be following KotFE as I don't want to sit around for aaaaaages waiting for Jaesa and Vette, and I'm not overly invested in that storyline anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linaera and Pierce meet on Taris.

Pierce stares at the ceiling and scowls. Rolls onto his other side. Checks his chrono for the fourth time in an hour and mutters a expletive.

_Fuck._

All he can think of is her, all but ignoring Moff Hurdenn as soon as he introduces Pierce, blatantly flirting with her first words to him. Her expression infinitesimally surprised, blue-gray eyes - more gray than blue - appraising him when he gives it right back, assuring her that he’s steady and sure in all situations, not-so-subtle emphasis on all. 

Sith, in his experience, can rarely manage to be personable, let alone flirtatious and gorgeous, and he certainly shouldn’t be laying here at two in the morning, mouth dry as he thinks about her skin sweat-slick against his, thinks about her warm and pliant underneath him. 

Or on top of him. He’s not picky.

His cock is straining the fabric of his PT shorts, and he realizes with a grimace that he’s not going to get any sleep until he takes care of that problem. Tossing the blanket off, he stalks into his ‘fresher, turning the shower on with an irritated jerk and quickly shucking the increasingly uncomfortable shorts. 

The hot water sluices along his skin as he wraps his hand around himself, imagining her hand, the wetness of her mouth, the heat of her core. Her fitted armor only emphasizes her curves, and it’s all too easy to picture her tits pressed against his chest, her legs tight around his waist and his hands gripping her taut ass as he pulls himself into her, her cocky smirk wiped out by a gasp of desperate need. He muffles a groan against his upper arm as his hips buck against his curled fingers, shuddering as he comes, knowing as soon as he sees her tomorrow that this is what he’ll think of. But at least maybe now he’ll fall asleep. 

He towels off, pulls on a clean pair of shorts, and falls into bed, wondering if he can get her alone before she leaves Taris.

\--

“You and Thana ought to just kiss,” Pierce says, laughing, as they depart the command post, bound for the Republic stronghold. "It’s obvious you have a thing for each other.“

He doesn’t expect her to take him up on his jest. He expects a torrent of protestation, a vehement list of all the ways that Thana deserves to meet Linaera’s blade point first. Instead, she quirks an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know if you want to be in competition with me, Lieutenant. Don’t think I haven’t seen you watching her.”

He shakes his head. “No thanks, I like all my bits where they belong.” 

She pauses by their speeder, respirator still in hand. “And they don’t belong in Sith, is that what you’re saying?” She shakes her head, pokes her bottom lip out in a pout. “Disappointing, that.”

He has to studiously ignore how his body’s responding to the way she’s looking at him, how badly he wants to catch that lip between his teeth. “Just not … _that_ Sith, my lord.”

“Oh?” She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something else, then gives her head a small shake, fits the respirator to her face. “Interesting.” Her tone turns all business. “Well, let’s go.”

He climbs onto the back seat of the speeder, wondering what she’d do if he leaned forward and wrapped an arm around her, scowling at himself. No time for this, not when they’re infiltrating a Republic base. _Get your shit together, man._

A few hours later, he’s checking how long they have before the place explodes as Linaera and Thana trade barbs in the Taris spaceport. It’s suddenly quiet, and when he turns back, Linaera has her hands curled around Thana’s tunic, and Thana has a firm grip on Linaera’s belt, their mouths connected. 

He never thought he’d be jealous of Thana Vesh, but here he is, wishing Linaera would kiss him like that.

“Impudent whelp!” Thana snaps, stepping back and shoving Linaera away. Fire blazes in her eyes as she yanks her tunic back into place. “How dare you!”

Linaera staggers back a step then folds her arms across her chest, unperturbed by the outburst. “Oh, you loved it,” she says, winking at Thana. “Didn’t hear you complaining a second ago.”

“Because your tongue was down my throat!” Thana splutters. 

Linaera’s smile grows wider. “And where was yours?”

“I - “ She folds her arms, unconsciously mirroring Linaera, and scowls harder. “That’s not the point! You better hope we never cross paths again!” She vaults over the railing and sprints out of the spaceport.

After watching Thana’s rapidly receding figure for a moment, Linaera turns to Pierce, knowing gleam in her eye. “Was it everything you were hoping for?”

“And then some.” He grins. "Told you two had a thing for each other.”

“I never argued with you.” She laughs, then fixes him with a stare. “Lieutenant. I have enjoyed our little dance, but now I must know.”

“My lord?”

“When are we going to fuck?”

He pretends to consider. “When we’re not in a building rigged to blow any second?”

Linaera laughs outright. “I’m holding you to that.”

That afternoon, on the gangplank of the Fury, he lays a hand on her shoulder and turns her. She swiftly removes her respirator, haphazardly chucking it toward the open door as his mouth seeks hers. They stumble onto the ship, awkward as they remove pieces of armor for the first time on the way to her cabin, Quinn’s dismayed exclamation about professionalism utterly ignored. 

His hands are quick and insistent on her skin, and she guides him with her shudders and moans, laying bare her secrets as frankly as she tells him what doesn’t work. She returns the favor, seeking those places that make him gasp and tremble. He takes her from behind, admiring the play of muscle in her back and arms as she clutches at black sheets, the rise and fall of her voice as she stutters his name, the curve of her ass and the arch of her back.

After he’s collapsed next to her and regained his breath, she raises an eyebrow. “You aren’t staying, are you?”

He’s already sitting, swinging his legs off the bed. “Of course not. It was fun, my lord.”

She stretches, eyes heavy-lidded, and gives him a languid smile. “We’ll have to do it again. Preferably soon.”


	2. A Nickname

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linaera relaxes the boundaries of their relationship, at least a little.

Linaera and Pierce gel into an inseparable team once he joins the crew. In battle they are formidable, positioned back to back and dropping opponents in hails of blaster fire and lightsaber blows. Their sex life is wide-ranging and voracious and often wildly inappropriate. It’s also quite possibly the bane of Quinn’s existence; Pierce certainly hopes it is, because as far as he’s concerned, that man could use a few more existential banes. Still, she lets him address her by a nickname before she lets him stay in her bed.

“Linaera is such a mouthful, don’t you think?” she giggles one night as they stagger, pleasantly drunk, into her cabin after a night of pazaak. She’s wrapped around his waist, hands roving under his shirt before she pulls it off and flings it away. 

He tosses her onto the bed and removes her trousers in one smooth move, then drops to his knees after pulling her toward him. He spreads her legs and skims one hand along her ribs, thumbing one pert nipple as he gently circles her clit with his tongue. “More than a mouthful, just how I like it,” he says, his caramel eyes fixed on her storm-blue ones.

“I ….” She hisses air between her teeth. "I’m trying to tell you something, you ass!“

"I know,” and he’s so self-satisfied that she’s almost tempted to tell him to get out, “but first tell me about how good this feels.”

She obliges, though there’s no way she _couldn’t_ , her breathy gasps and arched back precursors to stammered exclamations and clutched sheets. He wraps his arms around her thighs to keep her pressed against him, unrelenting until she flies into flinders, words and sounds subsumed by cresting waves of pleasure. 

Her chest is still heaving and she’s shuddering with aftershocks when he speaks again, still looking up at her from the end of the bed. “You wanted to tell me something?”

“I … I what? Oh ….” She trails off, attempting to wrangle scattered thoughts into a semblance of coherence. “I was going to say you can call me Lin.” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “But you still have to be sure to use _my lord_ now and again.”

“Nothing’s gonna convince me to give up a title that makes you look at me the way you do when I say that.” He stands, gaze hot. “Not done already, are you, Lin?”

She snorts, makes a come-hither gesture. “Waiting on you, Lieutenant.”

“Apologies … my lord.”


	3. We're Not Fine!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lin & Pierce get themselves into a bit of a tangled situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt fill "are you kidding we're not fine"

“Ow! Stop flailing and let me - dammit, Pierce.” Linaera sighs and drops her head, refusing to look at the crazy tangle of rope. “Look, we’re stuck. We’re going to need help.”

“We’re fine! We just … have to figure out how to get out of this.” His voice drops to a mutter. “Damn thing didn’t look so complicated on the package.”

“Are you kidding me? We’re not fine!” She beckons, sort of, at the mess they’re in. “How is this fine? Why did you think this was a good idea?” 

He gasps. “Hey, you thought this swing was a great idea, too! You paid for it, remember?”

“Look, just … let’s not play the blame game. You know we’re gonna have to call for help.” She smirks. “Quinn might actually throw a punch at one of us this time.”


	4. Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lin and Pierce think the ship is deserted. They're wrong. Shenanigans ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt "empty"

“So the ship is empty?” Pierce studies the cards on the table in front of him, then the cards in his hand. It’s a lost cause at this point; she’s going to beat him for the third game in a row unless he gets lucky.

“Yep. Sent everyone on shore leave this morning.” Lin grimaces as she looks at her cards, then heaves a disgusted sigh when she realizes she’s out of booze.

His interest in the game, already waning, evaporates completely and he seizes on the opportunity. She’s been making thoroughly inappropriate remarks all afternoon, pretending she doesn’t see him watching when she stretches, swearing it’s an accident every time she brushes against him. This time he’ll be the one to cave to her, with the unspoken understanding that next time is her turn. 

He shoves the pazaak table sideways, sending cards flying, and pulls her into his lap. “Good.” He grips her tunic at the collar, splitting it down the middle with a sharp jerk and discarding the two halves of her shirt, his gaze hungry and roving. “Better.”

“Another shirt? Damn it, I -” She stops, hissing a breath through her teeth as he bends his head to a now-bared breast. “Bedroom, Pierce. Jaesa said if we break any more chairs in here she'll kill us,” she murmurs in his ear. “Wait, wait, hang on, you're wearing too many clothes.” She leans back and pulls his tunic off over his head, running her hands across the expanse of bared brown skin. “Better. Have you considered fighting shirtless?”

"Considered it, but you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me, my lord. Can't have you distracted on the battlefield, now can we?" He laughs, gripping her ass with large hands as he stands. "Come on."

Lin’s got her legs around his waist and his earlobe between her teeth, feeling the groan rumbling in his chest, when she hears a gasp that lands somewhere between startled and disgusted as they pass the stairs leading to the cockpit. 

“My lord, really, it’s just … _unprofessional!_ ” Quinn exclaims, averting his eyes.

“You said everyone was gone!” Pierce is clearly entertained. “You could have just told me we were going to put on a show. I wouldn’t have said no.”

Linaera grins, and the invitation is tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop it. “Always room for one more, Captain. It could be fun! You could consider it a personal interview."

“No, my lord,” Quinn snaps, standing up straighter. “I certainly could not.”

Pierce’s smirk matches Lin’s. “You sure, _Captain_?” he asks, somehow managing to make Quinn’s rank sound incredibly insubordinate. “Speaking from quite a lot of experience, her _personal interviews_ are one of the best parts of this post. I bet she could … fit you in somewhere.”

Lin can’t swallow her laughter, especially when she sees Quinn flush a bright red, and it takes her a moment before she can speak. “Sure can!” She waggles her eyebrows. “I’ll let you pick, even.”

Quinn ignores her completely. “Yes, Lieutenant, I’m _quite_ sure,” he mutters, forcing each word through gritted teeth. “Please don’t let me detain you, my lord.”

Lin notes, with great amusement, that Quinn can’t even bypass customs and courtesies when he’s blindingly furious. “Well, you heard the captain, Lieutenant. You better get in that bedroom and fuck me.”

“Now that’s the kind of order I like, my lord,” Pierce says, wide smile on his face.


	5. If You Die, I'm Gonna Kill You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierce gets hurt, and Lin doesn't take it nearly as seriously as he thinks she should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt of the same name

Pierce drops like a sack of duracrete, his rifle clattering across the stones, and Lin backs up to guard him, only deactivating her lightsaber after the remaining Gormak back up and thunder away from her.

“If you’re dead,” she mutters, dropping into a crouch to inspect his wounds, “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Little … redundant,” he groans, eyes still closed. “They got me good. Dying might be preferable.”

 _Men are such babies sometimes._ Lin doesn’t say it out loud, but it’s probably a good thing his eyes are still closed and he can’t see her expression. “Well, if you insist. I guess I’ll just have to sleep with Quinn, then.”

“Captain Protocol!” he exclaims, deeply offended, wincing when he tries to sit up. “Ugh, my lord, _no_. Anything but that.”

She shoves him back down, rummaging through his pack for kolto and jamming a dart into his thigh. “What, is death not preferable anymore?” She grins. “Hey look, now I’m giving you the injection!” She rocks back onto her ass, greatly amused with herself.

“Laugh it up while you can, my lord,” he says, pushing himself up to a sitting position. “I owe you for that comment about Quinn. I really didn’t want that mental image.”

“I’m sure we can find something better to replace it with.” She stands and extends a hand down to him, helping him to his feet. “But only if you manage to stay upright through the rest of this mission.”

“And here I always thought you preferred me horizontal.” He grins and picks up his rifle. “Let’s go.”


	6. Drinks Are on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Lin rescues a Republic soldier from a Massassi cage, the soldier extends an offer of drinks. She didn't think the Sith would actually take her up on it.

The coalition camp is raucous tonight. Spirits are high, everyone’s excited for the big push tomorrow, and for the first time in a long time the general attitude is one of _we can win this_. An impromptu cantina has been set up in the center of camp, courtesy of the smugglers that have come to contribute to the cause, though it’s still divided by faction. 

Darth Tenax, _neé_ Linaera, Emperor’s Wrath - in title at least, though she’s sure the Hand won’t keep her that way for long, not after Rishi - pauses on the top step, hood resting against her back instead of up around her face. She searches the crowd until she finds a familiar face, picking her way through the tables of Republic troops and the odd Jedi, ignoring how the tables go silent as she passes.

At a back table, Corporal Basar nudges the woman next to him. “Hey, Sergeant Torsen, why the hell is a Sith headed this way?”

Torsen looks up, eyebrow rising in surprise. “That’s the Sith that got me out of the Massassi cage. I, uh, told her I’d buy her a drink when we were back at camp. Looks like she’s taking me up on it. Sergeant Scrater, grab another chair.”

“You can’t be serious!” Scrater whispers furiously. “You want to have a friendly drink with a Sith?”

Torsen’s jaw takes on a familiar stubborn set. “Last I checked, it was the Jedi that had that longstanding grudge, not us. The woman did me a solid. I owe her one.” She stands as Linaera approaches. “I, uh … look, I’m not calling you _my lord_ or anything, but I said I’d buy you a drink and I’m a woman of my word. Have a seat?”

Linaera tries to stay straightfaced. “I wouldn’t expect you to.” She drops into the vacant chair. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure you meant what you said, but I thought I’d come find out.” Silence spins out, turning awkward as she considers what to say. “So … I suppose an introduction is in order. It’s probably best if you just call me Linaera.” She extends her hand.

Torsen nods, takes Linaera’s hand. “Fair enough. I’m Dara Torsen. These are my guys, who can introduce themselves when they relax,” she says, beckoning to the rest of the troopers sitting rather stiffly at the table. “They’re a little … well. This is a bit outside the realm of ordinary procedure.”

Linaera can’t contain her amusement this time. “Both my lieutenant and my captain vociferously protested this meeting. _Vociferously_. Listening to them, you’d think you were all lying in wait to ambush me. Honestly, I’d have thought my lieutenant would be happy someone else was buying my booze this time, instead of him as he loses hand after hand of pazaak.” She orders a round for the table, then settles back into her chair. “So, Yavin Four is kind of a shithole. Not that I’m surprised, since that seems to be the only kind of place I go these days.”

“Ugh, the damn stonerays!” Corporal Basar exclaims. “And the lurkers! Why is all the wildlife here such a pain in the ass?” 

The table erupts into heated commentary on the state of Yavin Four, none of it complimentary, and by the third round of drinks the atmosphere has relaxed considerably.

“So I know since you’re Sith and all you probably don’t have to deal with it, but is your bureaucracy as ass-backwards as ours?” Sergeant Scrater asks. “If it isn’t politicians meddling in our missions, it’s politicians demanding impossible missions, or, or ….” He searches for something to amply demonstrate his ire. “Or Hoth. Ugh, who even wants that planet? Can you guys just take that iceball?”

“Are you kidding? You can’t make a move without wondering which Darth’s toes you’re stepping on,” Linaera says. “I mean, my new job gets rid of some of that, but even the Dark Councilors have to deal with it. Bureaucracy is crap everywhere. Piss off a random moff without knowing who he reports to, and wake up to an angry holocall from Darth Ravage because how dare you talk to his underling’s underling’s underling like that. And no, don’t make me take Hoth, I still don’t think I have all the feeling back in my toes. You guys keep it.”

“At least you only have a few Councilors,” Torsen chimes in. “We have to deal with a building full of hundreds of idiot Senators, none of whom can manage to work together on anything, and then we ended up with Saresh, who seems to think that a post on Taris qualifies her to run an expanding war.”

Linaera snorts. “Taris? That’s the planet we kicked you off of, right? How does she think qualifications work? See, this is why executions in the face of failure are occasionally a good idea.” She finishes her ale, beckons for another round. “All right: worst planet you’ve been stationed on that isn’t Hoth.”

–

They are well and thoroughly shitfaced, taking requests from the remaining crowd for impromptu vocal performances by the time Pierce finally comes looking for his wayward Sith.

“See, this is what happens when I let you wander around unsupervised, my lord,” he says when they finish their latest song, trying to sound angry.

“Oh, good!” Linaera exclaims, wide drunken smile on her face. “Piiiiiiierce! This is Lieutenan’ Pierce, everyone!”

As the assorted troopers greet him in a chorus, Torsen grins. “I’ve heard you’re terrible at p’zaak,” she slurs. “Wanna play?”

Pierce gives Linaera a dirty look. “Really, my lord? Gossiping about me?”

“Ain’t gossip, it’s jus’ the truth.” Linaera staggers to the side a step. “Well, Dara, it’s been fun, but now that the Imperial Army’s here t’ collect me,” she makes a face at Pierce, “I guess I haveta go.”

“Come by tom’rrow once we kick the Revanites’ collective ass, Linaera,” Torsen says. “Migh’ be the last time we get to share drinks.” 

“You’re on.” There’s a round of inebriated farewells, including an inordinate amount of backslapping, and Linaera turns to head back to her ship.

Pierce catches her arm as she starts to trip down the steps. “Oh, for- we’re over here, my lord, and I thought you were going for one drink, not throwing a raging party with Pubs.”

“One drink,” she says mockingly, leaning against him. “Who has one drink? Those smugglers have good booze! I’m scared to check my account, but whatever, it was fun.” She slaps his arm, gasping as she has a great idea. “Give me a piggyback ride back to the ship!”

He really has to work to not laugh this time, and is almost tempted to take her up it; he could blackmail her with that for weeks. “No.” 

She makes a disgusted noise. “Ugh, fine. Spoilsport. You’re just mad you missed out cause you sat on the ship with Quinn and threw a temper tantrum.”

He really is, but he’ll be damned if he’s gonna admit it to her. “Nonsense. Now come on, we have to get up early.”


	7. A Letter, Five Years Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linaera, fleeing Zakuul, finally has a moment to catch her breath and clean out her email. There's one message she isn't expecting.
> 
> (KotFE)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Bioware isn't gonna give me a letter, I'll write it myself.

Lin,

Still can’t believe you left me on the ship with Quinn when you know damn well I belong with you. Who else is gonna watch your six? Should have just ignored your order and come with you anyway.

Been taking the fight to these invading assholes, and you ought to be here. Sometimes I still expect to hear your lightsaber humming as it whips past my head. Be prepared to compare totals when you get back; I’ve got you beat by now for sure.

You still owe me credits from our last pazaak game, and I still owe you a bottle of Alderaanian ice brandy (pretty sure I know exactly what you plan on doing with that, no way am I passing that up), so if you’re actually gone, I’m gonna be pissed.

I know we saw Marr’s flagship explode. But I also know you’re too fucking stubborn to let something like that kill you. Just finish whatever it is you’re doing, and come extract me from the hellhole I end up stationed at after some moff gets their knickers in a twist.

Pierce


	8. The Door is Over There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A disagreement about the winner of a hand to hand match leads to a standoff.

Pierce sits astride Lin, amused. He’s pinned her wrists on either side of her head, and leans down to kiss her jawline. “There is no controversy, Lin. I defeated you, fair and square. You’re the one who owes me the credits, and the last beer.”

Lin rolls her eyes even as she tilts her head, baring the curve of her neck to his kisses. “You didn’t defeat me, your feet went outside the ring. That’s an automatic disqualification.”

“Outside the ring?” Pierce snorts. “When did we start using Echani rules?”

“Anytime the hand to hand combat is in the ring, we follow the rules. We agreed, remember? That’s the excuse we use for sparring in shorts and tank tops.” She wags a finger at him. “Don’t weasel out of it now. Hand over the credits, Major.”

“Absolutely not.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “If you’ve become a man of so few morals, the door is over there.” 

“Very well.” He releases her hands, stands, a cocky smile on his face. “I guess we’ll see who gives in first, won’t we?” He swaggers out the door, not even pausing to look back at Lin.


	9. Morning Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Lin nor Pierce are budging in the Saga of Who Won the Hand to Hand Sparring Match, but that doesn’t mean they’re not going to mess with each other. Continuation of [The Door is Over There](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5116937/chapters/11885537).

Pierce wakes up, rolls out of his bunk, and shuffles toward the ‘fresher, bleary-eyed and quite out of sorts. Lin’s stubbornly clinging to her supposed victory from a day ago; he’d been sure she’d give in but ended up spending a miserable night tossing and turning, his traitorous mind content to think only of his damnable Sith. 

_Lin splayed in front of him, back arched, her hands in his hair. Lin up against the wall, his fingers sinking into that luscious ass. Lin’s vocalizations spiraling from hoarse whispers to full-throated and unrestrained screams. Lin coming undone right at the end, only for him._

He looses an impressive stream of expletives under his breath and slaps the entry panel. She's not going to win this one. All he needs is a hot shower and some strong caf and he’ll be fine. 

The door to the ‘fresher slides open just as Lin is stepping out of the shower, steam billowing out behind her. Water rolls down her clean-shaven head, along the swell of her breasts, from her taut stomach to the thatch of reddish curls just above -

A strangled groan gets caught in his throat, and he balls his hands into fists. “My lord.”

“Good morning, Pierce!” she says, so brightly that he _knows_ she planned this. Those full lips are curved into a wicked smirk, and he wonders how long she’s been in here. “Shower’s all yours! I’ll just finish up while you’re in there.”

She’s conveniently - _too_ conveniently - placed her towel on a short stool instead of the hook where she usually hangs it; he watches her bend to pick it up, can’t tear his eyes from her slinging it around her waist. “Yes, my lord,” he rumbles.

Lin leers at him, giving him a slow once-over, hand resting on her hip. “Major, you are putting those poor shorts under _quite_ a strain.” She crosses the room, quick as lightning, breasts brushing against his skin as she leans close, fingertips resting on his forearm. “I could ….” She swallows hard, and runs the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip, the only sign thus far that she’s struggling with this. “I could help you with that … if you want.”

He grabs her wrists and backs her into the nearest wall, pinning her hands above her head, brushing his mouth along her jawline up to her earlobe. “My lord.”

A whimper falls from her parted lips. She’s hidden it well until now, but now that they’re less than an inch apart? She’s so close to cracking he can almost taste it.

“Just admit I won,” he rasps, voice thick with desire. “Two words, and I will fuck you until lunchtime, however you command.” He rolls his hips against her, and doesn’t miss how hers shift toward him, just for a moment.

Her fingers clench and unclench. “Pierce, I ….” She closes those storm-blue eyes and takes a deep breath, then opens them. “I eagerly await the day you admit I won.” She pulls forward, stopping only when they’re close enough to be breathing the same air. “Major.”

Pierce drops her arms like they’re on fire and steps backward. “Damn you.”

“Two words.” She grins at him, lightly cups his cheek, and throws his offer back at him. “And then I’ll fuck you until lunchtime, however you command.” Then that minx winks at him, actually _winks_ at him, and he’s so torn between scowling and laughing that he turns away. 

“On second thought, I’ll get ready in my quarters today.” She hangs up her towel - back on its proper hook this time, he notes - and saunters out of the ‘fresher, extra sway in her hips.

He takes a long, cold shower.

It doesn’t help.


	10. Weapons Maintenance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Saga of Who Won the Hand to Hand Sparring Match continues. Pierce devises payback for Lin's shower shenanigans earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [part 1](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5116937/chapters/11885537)   
>  [part 2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5116937/chapters/12030269)

Lin is kicked back in the lounge with a steaming cup of caf when Pierce finally emerges from his room. He gives her a pleasant enough smile, pours himself a cup, then sets about rearranging the lounge, shoving together four of the small square tables. She raises an eyebrow. “And what are you up to?”

He gives her a look she can’t quite interpret and strides toward the door without answering.

She watches him leave, appreciating - and not for the first time - how good he looks in military-issue trousers, and she’s sure that’s another one of his too-small shirts, given how it pulls so distractingly across his broad shoulders, hugging musculature like a second skin.

He doesn’t turn around as he crosses the lounge. “Stop staring at my ass, my lord.”

“Stop having such a nice ass and I will, Major,” she retorts at his receding back.

He returns a few minutes later wearing or carrying practically every weapon in his arsenal. Lin’s gaze drops to his right leg, her eyes narrowing. 

He’s wearing his thigh holster. That bastard knows exactly what effect it has on her, too, though she’ll be damned if she’s going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to her. 

She ought to just leave. That’d take the wind right out of his smug little sails. She ought to just get right up out of this seat and swagger out.

Lin’s never been much of a fan of doing what she _ought_ to do. 

Instead, she takes another swallow of caf, rearranging her features into a placid expression. “Are you expecting trouble?”

He spreads a white cloth across the tables and sets all his guns on it, removes the holsters he’s wearing, then produces a small bag from one of his cargo pockets, unrolling it to reveal a high quality cleaning kit. “Won’t do to show up to your fancy Alliance base with dirty weapons,” he says mildly. “Figured I’d better give them a good cleaning.”

She hides her smirk behind her cup; she definitely got to him in the ‘fresher earlier. He’s pulling out the big guns … in this case, literally as well as figuratively. “Oh, good. I do enjoy watching you polish your weapon.” A beat. “Weapons, I mean.”

He gives no outward sign he’s amused as he rapidly breaks down his rifle. “I’m well aware of your fascination with my weapon.” A pause of similar length. “Weapons, I mean.” He holds out the barrel. “Do you want to help?”

“Oh, no.” She holds up both hands. “You’ve had so much more practice than me. You’re practically a ….” She pretends to consider. “Well, practically a master at it.” She has to bite the inside of her lip pretty hard to not laugh.

“I can’t help but get the feeling you’re baiting me,” he says, though his cheek twitches as he gives whatever it is he’s cleaning far more attention than Lin really thinks it needs, “and it’s not going to work.”

 _Damn him and his stupid military bearing_ , Lin thinks, because she’s got to drop this before she ends up choking on her caf. “Anyway, you seem very intent on what you’re doing. I’ll just stay out of your way.”

His hands move with the swift smoothness of long practice, and soon he’s thoroughly engrossed in what he’s doing, heedless of how Lin’s watching him with increasing scrutiny. Her gaze flicks from his hands, which could be doing much more interesting things, to the shifting curves of muscles in his arms and chest, which are far too clothed for her liking.

It’s that warfighter demeanor, the one that’s all business and laserlike focus; it practically _begs_ to be tested. She wonders how long he’d hold it over her head if she concedes. After all, it’s just a beer and some credits. She’d almost given in this morning, all but running out of the ‘fresher to prevent the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

She sets her now-empty caf cup on a nearby table and makes her way over to him, waiting until he’s done cleaning the blaster pistol. “Look at that concentration,” she murmurs, looking over his shoulder as she slides one hand along his waist. “This is your last weapon, yes?”

He fumbles the barrel, just a little. “Yes, my lord. I’m sure you know I pride myself on my ability and thoroughness.” He finishes putting the weapon together and sets it on the table.

“Oh, I do.” She picks up the thigh holster. “Well, now that you’re done, we better get all your accoutrements reattached.” She hooks her fingers into his belt and pulls him closer with a small jerk, quickly attaches the top loop, then crouches.

First the lower strap, tightened against his leg, checking that it’s secure. Then the top strap, her fingers curled and raking against his inner thigh just so after she checks it. She hears his sharp inhalation and looks up at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“Problem, Major? Not too tight, I hope.”

Pierce shifts his weight from foot to foot, tries to unobtrusively adjust his trousers. “Maybe a bit, but nothing I’m not used to.”

“Hmm.” She runs the flat of her palm along each strap pretending to check them, listening to how his breath wavers. “Is it something I can help with?”

He swallows hard. “Damn it, Lin.”

She stands, hand grazing the front of his trousers. “Is that a no?” She shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “Very well. I’ll leave you to your work.” She’s almost to the door when she hears his holster clatter onto the top of the weapons, and a heavy tread behind her, rapidly closing the space between them. 

His hand closes on her arm and yanks her around to face him. “Damn this, and damn you, you manipulative asshole,” he mutters. He backs her into the wall, mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss that nearly makes her gasp with its ferocity. “So fucking stubborn,” he mumbles between nips at her neck, faint red marks trailing in his wake, one hand closing on a fistful of her shirt. “Can’t concede this one time.” 

He’s got a knee pushed between her legs and his hands cupping her breasts by the time Lin finds her voice, drowned out as it is by the roaring in her ears. She has his belt off, unfastened one-handed, and is making short work of the trouser buttons. “So _you_ concede, then?” she asks, all but panting. 

“No.” He growls low in his throat and steps back, bracing one arm against the wall. “But if you don’t want me,” and stars, he wants her, Lin can feel it rolling off of him like the heat coming off the sands of Tatooine, “you tell me to go and I’ll go.”

His chest is heaving, there’s fire in his caramel eyes, and his pants are held up purely by the curve of his ass, and she decides a beer and fifty credits aren’t worth missing out on this. “Can’t tell you that, it’d be a filthy lie.”

He wraps his free arm around her waist, splaying his fingers across the small of her back and pulling her fully against him. A wide, sunny grin lights his face. “Fuck it, that’s good enough for me.”


	11. Excuse Me, Did You Drop This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierce gets an eyeful of Lin. 
> 
> (KotFE)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt of the same name.

Pierce cracks one eye open, yawns. Opens the other and sits up. It takes a moment before he remembers that he’s on Odessen. He’s in Alliance headquarters.

He’s sprawled in Lin’s bed.

A hand swiped across luxuriously soft sheets shows that her side has already gone chilly, and he wonders how long she’s been awake as he sits up and looks around. Her voice sounds on the other side of the closed door, quiet but growing louder. Rolling out of bed, he crosses to the wall locker she had brought in for him, rummaging in one of the drawers for a pair of pants. He’s just finished buttoning them and has a belt in his hand when the door whispers open and she strides into their quarters.

She’s wearing tight black pants, a pair of her customary thigh-high boots, and a white sleeveless shirt that hugs her torso and does a superlative job of showcasing her breasts. The belt wobbles and falls out of his hands as he stares, clattering to the metal floor. 

Lin crosses the room and bends at the waist to pick it up. Her eyes are bright with mirth when she straightens, her free hand on her cocked hip. “Excuse me, Major,” she purrs. “Did you drop this?” 

He takes the belt, amused. “Apparently I did. Thank you, my lord.” He threads it through the loops and buckles it. 

“We got in late last night,” she says. “Would you like a tour of the base? After breakfast and the morning meeting, of course.”

He gives her a deliberate once-over. “Breakfast and a tour aren’t even close to the top five things I want to do right now.”

Lin grins at him. “Oh, I’m sure.” She turns and saunters back down the short flight of stairs. “Come on, Pierce. Or you’ll just have to hang out alone all day instead of sneaking glances down my shirt while I get work done.”


	12. Military Bearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything's a competition with Lin and Pierce. Everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This utter silliness brought to you by [this post](http://inquisitorhotpants.tumblr.com/post/137097234676/thesecondsealwrites-exposed-mama-kid-thor). The best part is that this isn't remotely OOC for them.

Lin has had the best idea.

There is nothing better than making Pierce absolutely lose his shit, not that it’s hard to do. It takes over his whole body: he throws his head back, his shoulders shake, all while rich, booming laughter just _explodes_ out of him. It’s even better if she can get him to collapse into a chair, hands braced on his knees while he draws wheezing breaths, forced to just surrender to it til it’s run its course.

It is sexy as fuck, and she makes it happen as often as possible.

Today, she’s got him for sure; this is going to be the best one yet. She’s a little disappointed because it’s going to delay getting him into bed, but the trade-off is worth it, she thinks as she sticks the second little googly eye to her nipple.

This is the least dignified thing she’s ever done, and that’s really saying something.

It is going to be so great.

She’s just barely arranged herself in an alluring pose on the bed when their ‘fresher door opens and he strolls into the bedroom.

He’s wearing them too, that _bastard_.

The sole reason she doesn’t immediately laugh - because it _is_ hilarious, this huge slab of muscle standing arms akimbo, sporting googly eyes on his nipples and an erection that is severely endangering his shorts - is because she’s beyond annoyed that she didn’t get the drop on him.

His only reaction is the twitch of one eyebrow as he takes her in. “Shouldn’t have left them on the dresser. You’re normally more sneaky than that.”

She rolls off the bed and faces him, mimicking his pose and his stern expression. “Very well. First one to laugh loses.”

“And the winner gets?”

Lin considers. “The loser can’t fight for dominance at all tonight.”

His eyes widen. Most of their relationship is a playful fight for dominance; it keeps things interesting. “Upping the stakes,” he says, impressed. “You’re on.”

Lin knows within two minutes that she’s going to lose. She can’t get over how ridiculous this entire situation is, and she keeps feeling her lip tremble. Finally she draws a shuddering breath and throws her hands up. “Fine. _Fine_. You win, okay? Fuck your fucking discipline.” She mock-glares at him as a triumphant smirk spreads across his face. “Some of us haven’t had military bearing hammered into us for a decade, you know.”

“I’m not an ungracious winner,” Pierce says, pulling her flush against him, smiling widely, “and you’re right. Shall I name my cock Military Bearing this evening, my lord?” 

It’s the wink that gets her. He fucking _winks_ at her.

She claps a hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek of laughter, flinging her arms around him as mirth overtakes her and buckles her knees; all he can do is stand there, hold her up, and watch her come totally undone in his arms, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.

“You know what?” she gasps, staggering back and wiping tears out of her eyes, “actually, yeah, why don’t you do that? You have to mention it at least three times. And don’t forget the hammering part of the whole thing.”

He’s great at following directions when they suit him. 

They break the headboard and the chair, and don’t get out of bed the next day.


	13. Still Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the fifth anniversary of the destruction of Ziost, and the first Lin and Pierce have spent together.

It’s the five year anniversary of the destruction of Ziost. The streets of Kaas City are more somber than usual, rain-drenched and silent, normal operations suspended for the day as the capital retreats into itself to remember friends and family lost. 

It’s also the first Memorial Day Lin and Pierce have been able to spend together, and they’re spending the day in his apartment. Five hours earlier, he’d asked if she’d watch his back; when she’d nodded he’d proceeded to get hammered, mostly in silence. Each drink is preceded by a recited name, and Lin’s committed each name on the seemingly never-ending list to memory. 

He’s kept her within arm’s reach all day, as though she might disappear if he lets her get too far away, and they’re out on his covered balcony, leaning on the railing. He has one of her hands, his fingers laced with hers, looking out over the misty cityscape. “You know,” he murmurs, starting to slur his words a little, “never could bring myself to drink f’r you. Felt too much like givin’ up. My parents. Friends. Teachers. Even those assholes I scrapped with when I was a kid. Gotta drink to all of them, ‘s only right. Owe ‘em that much.” 

He still hasn’t looked at her, not sure he can’t bring himself to say the words if he does, instead raising their linked hands and kissing the back of hers, pressing his lips to the pale diagonal scar that bisects her skin. “But you … I couldn’ do it. Refused to accept you were gone, too. Couldn’t have everyone in my life gone.” A mirthless chuckle escaped him. “Could hear my mother lecturing me about it, too. ‘Rory Aston Pierce, you always were too stubborn for your own good.’ Course, I heard that a lot growing up.” 

This time, Pierce looks at her, a genuine smile touching one corner of his mouth. “She’d’ve liked you. You don’ let me get away with shit, either.”

Lin opens her mouth, though she doesn’t have the faintest idea what she wants to say, and he wags a finger at her before she can speak. “Now don’t you go sayin’ nothin’ ‘bout my name. Haven’t had to slug anyone for it in a few years, but you don’t get a pass just cause I give a damn about you, got it?”

“You got one when you found out my full name. It’s only fair I get one,” she says with a lightheartedness she doesn’t feel, forcing it around the lump of mingled anger and sorrow in her throat. She never should have taken that post on Marr’s flagship. If she hadn’t, she’d have been here when Pierce needed her. 

But she went chasing the fight, and he’s the one that paid the price. 

Not for the first time today, she blinks away tears before he can notice them.

He’s silent for a long moment, looking skyward as he reaches back through memories made hazy by booze. “Fair. But not today.” He holds out his arm, waiting until she nestles against him to wrap it around her shoulders. “Today jus’ let me remind myself that you’re here. That for once I was right to be a stubborn ass.”

“No.” She wraps an arm around his waist. “Not today. I owe you four missed todays, Pierce.” She leans in, brushes a tender kiss onto his cheek. “Tell me about your family.”


	14. Hello, Gorgeous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lin's a little tipsy.

“’lo, gorgeous.” Lin flings herself onto the bed hard enough to make Pierce actually bounce, then drapes an arm over him and gives him a wide smile, her face practically within kissing distance. “Missed you, you exquisite chunk of loveliness.”

“All right, three things,” Pierce says, heat sparking in his veins as she splays her fingers in the dark red hair on his chest. “One, no more of whatever that black liquor was because I can’t believe the words that just fell out of your silly-ass mouth. Two, you were only in the ‘fresher for five minutes, two of which were because you are so fucking drunk you couldn’t get the door open. Three,” and here he grins, “say some more nice things about me.”

“Oh ho.” She wags a finger at him, wobbling as she does so. “Takin’ ‘dvantage of my ina … my intoxl … m’ _drunk_ state t’get compliments, are ya?” She slings one leg over his waist and pulls herself on top of him, bracing her forearms on his chest. “Well, Major, y’oughta know ….” 

She leans forward, her mouth hovering less than a breath away from his. The longer she waits the shorter his breath grows, his hands tightening on the small of her back. After what seems like forever, her lips close around his top one, soft and sweet and lingering. “You have a _perfect_ ass.”

“Well, hell,” he says, his voice strangled, his heartbeat thundering in his ears, “everyone knows that.” 

She’s hovering again, and this time he’s sure he’s not going to be able to handle it, laying here while she aggressively _almost_ kisses him. He briefly wonders how the fuck this is such a turn-on when she’s not even doing anything to him, how she’s got him actively craving something as simple as a kiss.

She moves and he’s so ready for it, expecting teeth when she captures his bottom lip; there’s always teeth when she goes for his bottom lip.

There aren’t teeth. The kiss is maddeningly gentle, practically a caress, with a small hum of pleasure. “I love your name, so you and not you at th’ same time.”

This time he doesn’t have a response; she’s already cupping his face, her thumbs brushing the corners of his mouth, inching closer, closer. The curve of her lower lip brushes the curve of his, and he can’t help the low sound of pure need that he makes. She smiles, right before her tongue darts out and skims the edge of his top teeth. 

His raspy whisper breaks the silence. “Lin, _please_.” 

In a sudden, sweeping movement, she claims him with her boozy, sweet mouth, her body flush against his. “Pierce, I ….” Her head slips to the side, and for a long moment all he can feel is her breath, warm on his neck.

“Lin?” He shrugs a shoulder.

Nothing. She is absolutely, completely passed out.

He doesn’t have the heart to move her, even though he knows he’s going to wake up with a sore back tomorrow morning.


	15. Don't Stop on My Account

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lin becomes an accidental voyeur. Smutty little prompt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for a combined prompt of "didn't you get my messages" and "don't stop on my account"

Lin never thought she’d be so glad to get back to Odessen. Commander Pykash had sent her out recruiting again, and this time she’d had to go alone; Pierce has - to his continual surprise - ended up instructor of at least five different periods of instruction, with orders that the only thing that takes precedence is actual strike missions.

She dashes off a message to him as she strides down the ramp of the Fury, invigorated by the crisp, fresh air. Sends one more when she realizes he hasn’t answered. Stops to look for him in the classrooms, but everyone’s done for today.

Where the hell's he at?

He’ll turn up sooner or later, she thinks with a shrug, or she’ll find him at the cantina, drinking and telling combat stories. Right now she just wants a shower and a comfortable pair of pants and maybe a nap. Concentration focused on her backlog of reports, she absentmindedly taps the door panel, closes the door behind her. Tosses the datapad on the empty bed and sweeps through the open fresher door.

_Oh_.

Heat blossoms low in her belly as she takes in the scene in front of her, savoring it bit by bit. Pierce, almost too broad-shouldered for the narrow clear-walled shower stall. Water, and she already knows it’s teetering on the edge of too hot to be bearable, courses along his body, racing downward along planes and curves that Lin knows almost as well as she knows her own. Hips rocking in a very familiar rhythm. Shifting muscles in his arm as he strokes his cock, a flash of white as he bites his lower lip. 

Oh, _stars_.

She should say something, instead of standing here mesmerized, rendered utterly mute by thundering lust. Her fingernails dig into her palms and if she bites the inside of her cheek any harder she’s going to draw blood. This is different than the time that he knew she was watching, it feels intrusive, and she’s almost convinced herself to just leave, _maybe in just a second, I do need to turn around and go but fuck this is so hot I’ll go in a second_.

And then he moans.

And she can’t help herself, _oh fuck me_ tumbling out of her mouth practically of its own volition.

He doesn’t stop, but his eyes open, hot and heavy-lidded, and a smile pulls at his mouth. “My lord. I was -” He hisses a breath through his teeth. “Just thinking of you.”

“Didn’t get my messages?” It’s the most inane thing she could have said. Of course he hasn’t gotten her messages, he’s been in here but her brain is no longer working, hasn’t been for a good five minutes now.

Pierce rumbles something that might have been a negation, drawing a shuddering breath as his hand slows, and Lin almost pouts; now that she’s committed to being a voyeur, she wants the whole show. “Don’t stop on my account.”

He beckons at her with one finger. “Shut up and get in here.” 

She abandons her clothes in record time and slides in next to him, splaying her fingers across his chest. 

His mouth meets hers, then he lifts her leg, sliding into her with practiced ease as she wraps it around his waist. “I do believe you said _fuck me_ a minute ago, and I live to serve.”


	16. Hard Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierce gets hurt but he's too stubborn to go get it looked at.

Lin knows Pierce pretty well by now, she likes to think, and she can tell something’s off about the way he’s carrying himself when he shows up in their room after he’s finished with classes for the day.

“What’s wrong?”

He shoots her a dirty look. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Hmm.” She rolls off the bed, datapad forgotten, and strolls across the room to his side, scanning him with a critical eye. “I must just be imagining how you’re holding your shoulder funny today, then. The way you’re favoring your left leg, too. And that crease in your forehead. That one that says ‘I’m lying out my ass about being fine’.”

“Must be,” he says, a study in casual nonchalance.

“So if I punched you right now, right here,” she barely taps his left shoulder, “you’d be fine with that.”

He sighs. “Fine. I took a hard landing in my last class, that’s all. It’ll be fine, it’s nothing serious. I just need a hot shower and a beer.” He scowls at her. “And to not get punched by an asshole who has to prove she’s right all the damn time.”

She folds her arms and fixes him with a stern look that reminds him of one of his drill instructors. “You go see the corpsman?”

He just rolls his eyes and slides past her. “I’m not going to the corpsman for a tweaked shoulder and some leg pain, Lin. Stop fussing over me.” He manages to hide how he winces while he removes his upper armor, keeping his back to her, but can’t hide the breath he hisses through his teeth when he pulls his shirt off.

Lin shakes her head. “I’m not fussing; you’re just a stubborn ass. If you’re not gonna do the smart thing and go to the corpsman, you’re gonna let me help you.” She loops an arm around his waist and walks him over to the bed, shifting in front of him and quickly discarding his greaves. Stepping closer, she slips her fingers into the waistband of his leggings to slide them down, pausing only when he inclines his head and kisses her. “Sit. How were classes otherwise? I mean, other than you getting what is gonna be a pretty fantastic-looking bruise on your leg.” She traces a circle around the large red patch on his thigh.

“Good.” He settles gingerly onto the bed, sighing. “Pubs are coming along nicely, spurred on by competitive spirit - can’t let Imps beat ‘em, of course. It’s more of a refresher course for our guys, least until we get into the advanced course.” 

She drops to one knee to finish unfastening his boots, sets them aside at the foot of the bed, then whisks the leggings off, tossing them in the general direction of a hamper. “I know Aygo was concerned there was going to be problems.”

“He wasn’t wrong.” He lets her help him up, wrapping his uninjured arm around her shoulders as they slowly cross the room toward the ‘fresher. “Spent a lot of that first week getting challenged by Pubs.” He grins, cocky and clearly pleased with himself. “Didn’t end well for them, but military’s basically the same no matter the faction: pummel each other into the dirt, share a couple beers and bitch about the higher ups, you’ll find common ground.”

“Look at you,” she says, turning on the shower before she pats his cheek, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Major Pierce, scourge of the Republic, conqueror of the Bastion … getting along with Pubs.”

He makes a face. “Ugh, don’t put it that way. Takes all the fun out of it.”

“Aww. You’ll be okay.” She slaps his ass, points at the shower. “Get in. I’ll go get us some beers. Stay in here until I get back or til the hot water’s gone.”

“Hey, Lin.”

She’s almost out the door when he calls her name and has to lean back into the room to hear him over the shower. “Yeah?”

He sticks his head out, ignoring the water that’s puddling on the floor. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She winks at him. “You hard-headed jackass. Don’t think I don’t know you’re milking this so I’d undress you.”

He laughs outright, the sound echoing in the tiled ‘fresher. “If I wasn’t a hard-headed jackass, you wouldn’t have anyone at all to fuss over, and last I checked you like undressing me.”

“It is rather like unwrapping presents on Life Day.” She covers the distance between them with long strides, avoiding the water on the floor as she goes on tiptoe to press her lips to his. “Now quit calling my attention to the fact you’re in the shower or you can forget about me leaving to get beers.”


	17. Lord Tsurai Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lin's disapproving mother is the last person she'd ever thought she'd see at Alliance headquarters.

“Linaera. I was unaware the Alliance had a post for someone with zero drive and ambition, unconcerned with how they’ve embarrassed their family line with their antics. Perhaps I was wrong to accept their offer, if they have such low recruiting standards.”

The flatly disappointed voice hits Lin like a solid hit to her solar plexus. She gently lowers the artifact in her hands to the desk, briefly closes her eyes, willing her hand away from her lightsaber hilt before she turns. A taut non-smile curves her mouth, though she doesn’t speak, making a mental note to vet _all_ potential recruits from here on out.

Pierce, at the door to the research lab and looking for Lin, is about to turn and go wait for her in their quarters - he generally makes it a point to leave her be when she’s conducting Alliance business - when he notices the pinched expression on her face and how tense her posture is and changes his mind, making his way across the sizeable room to her side.

“You didn’t even retain the _one_ title you’d managed to collect,” the woman is saying as he comes up behind her. “You think we didn’t hear about how you turned down a position offered by the head of the Dark Council? What on earth would they want with -”

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” Pierce interrupts, sauntering to a stop next to Lin, frankly inspecting the slender woman with the elaborately styled auburn hair. She’s a dainty version of Lin, and he wonders how they're related. “Who’s _this_ charming woman?” he asks with no small amount of sarcasm.

“Major Pierce, may I present Lord Saryi Tsurai.” A pause, and her next words are spoken begrudgingly. “My mother. As you can see, she’s overjoyed to find me here.”

Pierce doesn’t even incline his head, earning himself a dirty look from the slight woman. “You don’t sound very pleased to see Lin.” He folds his arms, disapproval radiating from him like a beacon. “I’d think you’d be glad to know she’s all right after she was missing for five years.”

“I simply assumed a better Sith had killed her,” Saryi says, shrugging. “After all, she was never particularly concerned with her heritage or improving her skills.”

Pierce’s countenance darkens, but he doesn’t have a chance to speak before Lin does. “Improving _your_ skills,” she snaps. “Sorry I didn’t want to be hunched over dusty tomes the rest of my life, Mother.” She shoots a glance at Talos, who’s been standing to the side since this confrontation began. “No offense, Talos.”

“None taken. I, ah … I’m going to go show this scroll to Doctor Oggurobb. Please excuse me.” Talos snatches a random scroll off the worktable and makes a hasty exit.

“Oh, well, swinging a lightsaber around and flitting about the galaxy, that’s _so_ much more useful.” Saryi doesn’t attempt to hide her sneer. “Clearly those skills have served you quite well. My apologies.”

Pierce watches Lin’s jaw tighten and rests his hand on the small of her back with just enough pressure that he can feel her relax, however minutely. “Lord Tsurai, have you been introduced to the commander of forces yet? The woman who’s brought this entire alliance together, and has spearheaded multiple successful campaigns to take planets back from the Eternal Empire?”

“No, I have not.” She glares at him. “I assume someone is going to do that at some point?”

“Indeed.” His expression turns downright smug. “May I present Darth Tenax, formerly the Emperor’s Wrath, now the commander of the alliance against the Eternal Empire.” He indicates Lin, brows drawing together when Saryi doesn’t move. “I’ve spent eighteen years in the Imperial military, Lord Tsurai; I do believe it’s still customary to pay respect to a Sith of higher rank than yourself.”

Saryi’s lips narrow to a thin line as she inclines her head … barely. “Satisfied?”

Pierce ignores her. “Commander, is it not customary for _proper_ Sith to make disrespectful underlings grovel?” he asks, his caramel eyes alight with sudden humor. “You’ve put colonels in their place; surely this mere lord must be taught a lesson.”

Lin looks at him for a long moment; he can tell she’s genuinely angry or she’d at least be smirking by now. “Thank you for your input, Major, but perhaps I should handle this myself.” She leans to the side just enough to kiss his cheek. “Grab us dinner? I shouldn’t be long.”

“A _soldier_?” Saryi sighs. “You can’t even take a Sith as a consort? Why must you punish me so?”

“It’s just not fun kissing someone with their head that far up their ass, I guess,” Lin retorts as Pierce bursts into laughter. “As soon as one of them wants to be as worthy of me as Pierce is, then perhaps I’ll consider it. Until then I’m more than happy to continue trusting him with my life. After all, he actually gives a damn about it.”

“And the one time you didn’t, you got your ass handed to you and ended up stuck in carbonite,” Pierce chimes in.

“That too, asshole.” There’s a flash of amusement in her eyes, gone when she turns back to Saryi. “You will be working under Talos Drellik. Report to him for your assignment.” A thread of warning colors her words. “If I hear _anything_ about you using your connection to me to obtain special privileges, I will find a way to turn you over to the Eternal Empire.” She scrutinizes the smaller woman. “You look enough like me that with some cybernetics, they may believe you are me. I would keep this in mind when your natural inclination to be your usual conniving self tries to take over.” Without another word, she steps around Saryi, who’s staring openmouthed at Lin, and strides out of the large room. 

Pierce gives Saryi a level look. 

“Something to say, Major?”

“Plenty.” His hands settle on his hips and he looks for all the world like he’s cussing out a soldier. “But unlike some of us in this conversation, I give a shit about Lin and I won’t step in until she gives me the go-ahead. But once she does, all bets are off.” Before she can reply, he’s strolling away.

He finds Lin in the room where he teaches hand to hand combat, running through a viciously swift set of lightsaber velocities. “Hey. You okay?” He knows she isn’t.

“Great. I’m great.” The orange-red lightsaber hisses through the air. “My mother, who hates everything about me, who I thought I was free from forever, is now in the Alliance. Things couldn’t be _better_.” Her saber glances off the wall, leaving a burning gash in its wake.

“All right, all right, stop before you destroy my classroom.” He shucks his upper armor and his shirt. “Lose those spiky boots and let’s go a few rounds. No using the Force; I’m gonna make you work for it.”

She’s out of her boots in an instant and speeding across the room toward him; right before she tackles him he notices the yellow tinge to her eyes. She’s on him like a dervish, completely eschewing the moves he’s taught her and instead going for straight-out brawling.

The fourth time he pins her, ignoring the throbbing in his split lip, her eyes are back to their normal stormy gray. “Better?” he asks, breathing hard. “I hope so; you damn near broke my arm with that last hold. And fuck, my lip hurts. Didn’t think you were gonna punch me right in the face. I thought you liked my face.”

“Sorry.” She closes her eyes, willing her breathing and heart rate to slow. “I do like your face, and you know it. Thanks for letting me beat on you. And thanks for being there when I was talking to her.” 

“Didn’t know she was coming?” He climbs to his feet and extends a hand to help her up.

She takes it and stands, adjusting her twisted shirt. “No. I’ve been letting the advisors vet the lists of recruits. At least no one worse than her can show up.” She looks him up and down. “Come on, let’s go get kolto on all these.”

They’re back in their quarters before Pierce speaks again, a smirk on his face. “So … consort, eh?”

“I really didn’t feel like launching into an explanation of how we’re just friends,” Lin says, wincing as she strips out of her shirt before she turns to rummage through a medical kit. “Let her believe what she wants; it annoys her more thinking I’m settling below my station, no matter how unworthy of that station she has always believed I am.”

“I don’t know; I kind of like the idea of being your consort.” He grins widely as he disappears into the ‘fresher, raising his voice to be heard over the shower when he turns it on. “Does that come with a special title? I know you Sith types love titles.” He strikes a pose in the doorway. “‘Major Pierce. Black ops, combat instructor, consort to the Commander of Forces’. Oh yeah, that sounds good.”

She hooks her fingers into his belt and pulls him closer, her mouth a breath away from his. “Are you saying you want to be my consort, Pierce?” 

“I ….” He clears his throat, biting his lip as his cock presses into her hip. “I think maybe you should ask me again when I can think more clearly. I’m a little distracted right now.”

She kisses the left corner of his mouth as she pulls him into the ‘fresher. “I remember you saying you had no wish to be romantically tied to me.” A kiss on the right corner. “You were quite vehement about that fact, as I recall.”

“Only because you were being such a snarling rakghoul at the time.” His hand tightens on her waist. “Are you saying you’ve changed your mind and you want to marry me? Hmm? Because I recall _you_ being quite vehement about that, too.”

“Pfft,” she scoffs. “Don’t recall you asking.”

“Yet.” He pulls out of her grasp, bending to unfasten his boots and kick them off, 

Lin’s eyes go wide. “You ….” She slaps at him when she sees his cheek twitch as he steps out of his trousers. “You’re fucking with me.”

He grins, taking her hand and pulling her into the shower with him.. “I guess you’ll never know.” He leaves a row of red marks down her neck and along her collarbone. “I wouldn’t be averse to fucking you, though.”

She backs him up to the wall, twining her arms around his neck. “You never are.”

“See? Ideal consort, that’s me.”


	18. That's My Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierce gets a nice surprise when he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt "Finding the other wearing their clothes"

Pierce cracks one eye open as the little sounds from the kitchenette penetrate his semi-conscious state. Lin humming that song she’s had stuck in her head for four days as she fiddles with the caf maker, the quiet _tink_ as she sets the cups on the counter. He rolls over onto his side, watching her through a haze of near-waking. She’s got his t-shirt from his graduating OCS class on, the sultry Imperial pinup lounging across her shoulders, impossibly long armor-clad legs stretching the length of the shirt. He’d ended up with a shirt one size too small and only wears it when he’s completely out of clothes; on him it looks ridiculous but on her ….

She goes up on tiptoe to pull the caf off the topmost shelf, and the shirt rides up, revealing black lace panties that cover absolutely nothing other than that strip of hip they’re circling.

Well, _part_ of him is certainly awake now. Pierce waits until the caf is brewing before he clears his throat. “Shirt looks a hell of a lot better on you than it does on me.”

Lin turns around, flirty smile on her face. “I know. Bet it’d look even better on the floor. Too bad we have to go out for our run. Get up, Major.” She gives him a once-over, then winks at him. “Never mind, I see you already are.”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you there’d been a change to the PT schedule? We’re doing a comprehensive cardio rotation this morning.” He grins broadly. “Come here, I’ll show you.”


	19. You're Hot When You're Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lin is pissed. Pierce is distracted.

He thinks it has something to do with her mother - it usually does when Lin’s this livid - but Pierce really hopes Lin doesn’t ask for him to say something, because now he’s not even sure why she’s angry anymore. She’s pacing with that barely-checked rage that he so very seldom sees, swinging her arms, and then she paces away from him so all he can see is the muscles flexing under her skin and the curve of that ass and all he can think about is -

“Pierce! Are you even listening to me?”

Shit.

“Whaddaya need to hear, my lord? After all, as consort to the commander of forces, I live to serve.” He turns his palms up and tries for innocent. “You’re hot when you’re mad. What do you expect?”

Her face goes very still and for a brief second he wonders if he’s maybe gone too far this time.

“What do I expect?” She stalks over to him, looking for all the world like a drill instructor. (That’s hot, too, not that he’s fool enough to mention that right now. Maybe when she’s in a better mood and would be interested in the idea.) “I expect you to act like the goddamn conqueror of the Bastion and a fucking major with some bearing, not a fucking two-bit PFC I can pick up at any cantina outside the main fucking gate!”

His expression immediately darkens as his brows draw together. “Now see here, I don’t give a shit what you’re commander of, I won’t have you slander me like that. A PFC? How dare you -”

She pats his cheek, struggling mightily to keep a straight face. “You’re hot when you’re mad, too. Grrrrr, I’m Major Pierce, I’ve got big muscles and a tight ass and I’m shouty!” It’s the galaxy’s worst impression of him, insult added to injury as she holds her arms out like she’s got Invisible Lat Syndrome and stomps in a circle around him. “Rawwwwwr!”

“You’re a real asshole, my lord,” he growls, picking her up and tossing her onto the bed.

She crooks a finger and yanks him onto the bed with her. “Takes one to know one, Major.”


End file.
